Michel didn’t offer to touch the stable fork extended to him by Peyrol.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Peyrol.
“Nothing, nothing! Only last time I saw it, it was on Scevola’s shoulder.” He glanced up at the sky. “A little better than an hour ago.”
“What was he doing?”
“Going into the yard to put it away.”
“Well, now you go into the yard to put it away,” said Peyrol, “and don’t be long about it.” He waited with his hand over his chin till his henchman reappeared before him. But Michel had not got over his surprise.
“He was going to bed, you know,” he said.
“Eh, what? He was going.... He hasn’t gone to sleep in the stable, perchance? He does sometimes, you know.”
“I know. I looked. He isn’t there,” said Michel, very awake and round-eyed.
Peyrol started towards the cove. After three or four steps he turned round and found Michel motionless where he had left him.